


tsukishima kei's number one fan

by GreenyLove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys In Love, Division 1 Sendai Drogs, First Kiss, Future Fic, Kuroo Tetsurou is Bad at Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Kuroo Tetsurou, Pro Volleyball Player Tsukishima Kei, Sendai Frogs, Texting, Trans Male Character, Trans Tsukishima Kei, Wingman Bokuto Koutarou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenyLove/pseuds/GreenyLove
Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou is a confident man. You’ll never catch Kuroo Tetsurou on his back foot. Usually.(Kuroo confesses his feelings.)
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 32
Kudos: 305





	tsukishima kei's number one fan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaebbys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaebbys/gifts).



> this fic was written as part of a giveaway on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)
> 
> chaebbys requested "timeskip krtsk + love confessions/confession angst" so please enjoy Kuroo thinking that his feelings are subtle when in fact they are not!!! 
> 
> enjoy ~

The victory party is easy to find: Sendai Conference & Event Center, top floor, east suite. Kuroo flashes his JVA badge to the security personnel watching the elevator. The guard greets him, exchanges small talk, and then it's a short jaunt to the east wing where several standees of the titular Sendai Frog point guests down a carpeted hallway lined with windows on one side and tasteful art on the other. At the end of the hallway are double doors — closed, the event has already started — and beyond those doors the newly minted Division 1 professional volleyball team celebrates their season’s first victory. 

Finding the party is the easiest part of the night. 

Kuroo Tetsurou is a confident man. He could never have become a senior promotions manager before his 30th birthday if he wasn’t relentless in his professional convictions. Kuroo Tetsurou is sharp, savvy, respected, only late on purpose, handles major accounts with top brands with effortless ease. You’ll never catch Kuroo Tetsurou on his back foot. 

Usually. 

Tonight? Kuroo paces up and down the hallway. Fidgets with his tie. Checks his reflection in the window glass, plucking unhappily at his bangs. He finally trimmed his hair back. It looks good but unfamiliar, exposes more of his face. His forehead feels like a jumbotron — 

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. 

He stops pacing and fishes out his phone. He’s going to text Bokuto. There’s no way he can do this. 

Of course, an unread message from the MSBY star himself waits in his inbox. 

**bokuto  
** are you there yet? you got this!!!! 

His best friend is as optimistic as ever. Unfortunately, Kuroo does not _got this._

 **kuroo  
** I can’t do this   
not tonight 

It takes less than ten seconds for the incoming message bubble to appear on the screen. 

**bokuto  
** kurooooo bro   
you know i love you   
but ur being a weenie!  
you love tsukki and u gotta tell him (Ò﹏Ó)

 **kuroo  
** well 

**bokuto  
** u said   
if the frogs won   
then u would tell him (Ò﹏Ó) (Ò﹏Ó)

 **kuroo  
** I know I said that  
but hear me out

 **bokuto  
** NOPE TELL HIM  
TELL HIM TELL HIM TELL HIM   
TELLLHIMTELLHIM THELTELS 

**kuroo  
** bo this might not be the best time! 

The onslaught stops, but only for a moment. Kuroo watches the grey ellipses blink, stomach tightening anxiously. 

**bokuto  
** Kuroo-san, this is Akaashi. Koutarou was about to break his phone.   
If I may share my observations, if you truly did not want to confess to Tsukishima-kun, you simply wouldn’t go to the party.   
It sounds like you want Koutarou to talk you into something you are going to do anyway.   
Just do it. 

**kuroo  
** dammit   
do you think he loves me too, akaashi? 

**bokuto  
** Only Tsukishima-kun can tell you that.   
Good luck, Kuroo. 

**kuroo  
** thanks (¯▿¯)

He sighs, slips his phone back in his pocket. Akaashi is, as always, correct. His heart drops somewhere near his kidneys and his face feels warm. But Kuroo is not a coward, so he takes a fortifying breath, checks his hair one last time, and opens the door. 

The ballroom is decorated in white and black, posh but celebratory. There are tasteful touches of green, though amphibian decor seems to be limited to the small centerpieces on the cocktail tables. And the colossal frog balloons with sparkly black eyes and glittery pink cheeks, floating ominously in the corner. He suspects that Koganegawa had something to do with that. 

He recognizes most of the players mingling with coaches, sponsors, and sports journalists. Waiters glide smoothly through the crowd, handing out champagne flutes and finger foods. A large banner covers the far wall, congratulating the Frogs on a successful start to their Division 1 journey. Kuroo nods to the coaches and executives he recognizes as he steps farther into the room. Normally, he would schmooze, pass out smirks and business cards, but tonight he is on a mission. Tonight he is here for one man and only one man. 

A man he finally spots, not on the edge of the room but close to it, looking handsome and sharp in his grey suit and green tie. 

“Tsukki!” he calls, waving when the blonde’s head snaps up and those eyes land right on him. “There’s my favorite middle blocker in Division 1.” 

Tsukishima hides a grin in his drink. “Kuroo-san. Good to see you. Thank you for your support.” 

“Now, now, you don’t have to be so formal with me,” he chides as he snags a flute of pink bubbly off a passing tray. Kuroo’s final growth spurt put him mere inches above Tsukishima, meaning he now looks _down_ onto the younger man’s angular face. It makes it even harder not to stare. “We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

The blonde’s mouth tugs into a devastating half-smirk. “But Kuroo-san, you’re my _honored mentor,_ right?” 

Kuroo snorts. “You surpassed me a long time ago.” Gesturing broadly to the room, to the teammates who depend on the middle blocker, he smiles. He knows it’s a warm grin, more open than he usually risks around his perceptive crush, but — it’s hard to hide it, these days. His love for Tsukishima Kei only grows deeper and deeper, swells larger and larger. That’s why he _needs_ to tell him, that’s why he made that ultimatum. “I’m proud of you, Tsukki.” 

Tsukishima flushes, a delicate pink that might have to do with the alcohol but maybe, just maybe — 

Kuroo hopes. 

“Tsukishima Kei! Could I have a word?” 

Kuroo nearly fumbles with his drink, more absorbed in Tsukishima than he realized. A smartly dressed woman with bright lipstick and a press badge clipped to her jacket approaches the table. She wields a voice recorder like a sword, leveling it at Tsukishima’s face. “Sato Yukiko, _Off Court Weekly._ Congratulations on your victory. You debuted an incredibly impressive jump serve in the second set tonight!” 

If the sudden interruption annoys Tsukishima, he doesn’t show it. At least, not to the untrained eye. Only Kuroo notes the way his eyelid twitches. 

The blonde nods politely. “Thank you.” 

“And your blocks are as ruthless as always.” 

Tsukishima’s eyes flick over to Kuroo. “Sato-san, you must know Kuroo Tetsurou?” 

“Ah, I’m — ”

“You must, of course, know that Kuroo-san and I played for rival teams in high school. He was infamous for his defensive prowess.” 

Kuroo frowns. He knows what Tsukishima is doing, knows he wants to deflect attention off himself and onto others. A habit leftover from his teenage years, shunting off praise and anything else that might imply he cares more about the game than he shows. Maybe that move works with his other friends, but not Kuroo. Not Tsukishima Kei’s number one fan. 

Slinging a casual arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders, Kuroo flashes the woman a blinding smile. “A genuine compliment, Tsukishima-san? Must be my lucky night! Of course, Tsukishima-san has far surpassed me. His blocking is more like psychological warfare….” 

Kuroo launches into a detailed breakdown of Tsukishima’s stats from last season, his total career blocks, the match earlier than evening where Tsukishima’s read block against the opposing outside hitter directly resulted in the break point that catapulted the Frogs to victory. The journalist goes wide-eyed, injecting dozens of questions, all of which Kuroo answers easily, because what _doesn’t_ he know about Tsukishima Kei? He knows his career inside and out, he knows he only eats blueberry-flavored protein bars, he knows the cold fire in his eyes right before he rotates back onto the court that spells doom for anyone who stands in his way. 

“You are so knowledgeable, Kuroo-san,” Sato compliments. 

Kuroo drains the rest of his drink. “Tsukishima-san is an inspiring player. I catch as many matches as I can. I love him — _watching him._ He is someone to keep an eye on.” 

Oops. 

Thankfully, Sato seems to have all the sound bites she could ever want. With a bow and a final exchange of pleasantries, she excuses herself. Kuroo realizes he still has an arm around Tsukishima. Distancing himself, he clears his throat, glances at the blonde. It’s hard to read into his expression. His gaze is evaluative, suspicious, but also — hopeful? 

Tsukishima clears his throat. “I didn’t know you came to so many games.” He fiddles with his now-empty glass, tearing the cocktail napkin beneath it into small pieces. 

Kuroo would do anything to erase the uncertainty in those eyes. His heart thunders, his tongue feels thick. He’s going to sweat through his jacket. Years and years of yearning swell up inside him and he fights it on instinct. It’s never the right time — not when Tsukishima is so young, not when he’s so busy with school, not when he’s focused on his career. Kuroo still isn’t convinced he's worthy of the affections of this intelligent, persistent, amazing man, but he wants to be. He wants to try. 

The blonde speaks haltingly, in the middle of a sentence, but Kuroo hasn’t been listening. He takes a deep breath and pushes past the fear, past the buzzing of his heartbeat in his ears, and blurts out, 

“Tsukki, I love you.” 

Stunned silence. The room is filled with noise and chatter and people but in that instant, they are worlds away. Tsukishima gapes at him, jaw dropped for the split second it takes him to find his composure. He blushes — god, he’s probably so embarrassed, so put out, Kuroo was a lovesick fool to do this here — 

A hand lands on his arm. “Kuroo.” 

“I’m sorry.” Kuroo flinches, rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry to tell you like this. This night isn’t about me but I — I love you, Tsukishima Kei. I've loved you for years.” 

The grip tightens. Golden eyes narrow. “Years?” 

This is the end of their friendship. Kuroo swallows back against the bile in his throat. He’s come this far. Tsukishima deserves the entire truth. “Since Nationals, my third year. Since that match. I’m sorry, I — I sound like a broken record, I should leave — ” 

The hand on his arm yanks him closer, and then Tsukishima kisses him. 

It’s lightning quick, a wet press of mouths and then Tsukishima steps away, puts a respectable distance between them. It’s the shortest and most chaste kiss of Kuroo’s life but here he stands, poleaxed. 

“I’ve wanted to do _that_ for years,” Tsukishima says quietly. His hand slides down Kuroo’s arm until he can tangle their fingers and squeeze. “You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m an idiot,” Kuroo echoes in disbelief. A grin fights its way onto his face, a cautious joy expanding in his heart. “You...like me too?” 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes again, but a similar kind of smile, a wobbly but genuine thing, lights up his entire being. “A little, I guess,” he admits, eyes glittering. “Once in a blue moon, you’re likeable.” 

The joy grows and grows, becomes a bright fizzling in his veins. He could run a marathon, he could climb a mountain — but what he really wants to do is kiss this man again. “You want to get out of here?” 

“God, yes.” 

Hand in hand, the pair sneak through the crowd towards the secondary exit. When they pass the bar, Kyoutani spots them. Tsukishima doesn’t stop but he slows down, makes some kind of plea or threat with his eyes. Kyoutani just scoffs and goes back to his drink. Kuroo doesn't miss the thumbs up he gives them as they disappear into the hallway. 

Later, after a long walk and a long talk and even longer kisses, Kuroo shoots off an admittedly cryptic text. 

**kuroo  
** ٩ (◕‿◕) ۶ **  
**

  
He shuts it down and drops his phone back on the hotel room floor. There will be dozens of messages waiting when he wakes up, but for now? He rolls back over and smiles at the man falling asleep on the pillow beside him, hair mussed and lips a slick pink. **  
**

“So,” Kuroo purrs, wrapping himself around Tsukishima, like the blonde is wrapped around his heart, “tell me more about how you wanted to kiss me for _years ~_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> and then tsukki kicked kuroo out of his own hotel room :0 and they all lived happily ever after
> 
> thank you for reading! comments and kudos are loved and appreciated. this author responds to comments <3 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)   
> 


End file.
